Into the Velvet

Twelve Days Until

"What do you think that one looks like?"

"Hm. A whale."

"Henry, that cloud does not look like a whale. I don't even know where you got that from."

"Perhaps it doesn't. I just wanted to see your indignant expression. It's very cute."

"Stop flattering me."

"Never." Henry flipped over, moving from his back onto his stomach. The beach towel moved beneath his weight. His fingers snapped at my bikini string. "Shall we swim or not?"

I'd been thoroughly enjoying laying with him on the sand so far. Quietly dreaming of having more time to ourselves, where we could road trip again to a beach an hour away on the only usually warm day of the season. But alas, our Thanksgiving break was ending.

Sooner than I was happy with.

I wanted to lie under the clouds forever. So to distract him, I leaned over and kissed his neck. After the third and fourth and fifth time, I should've been sick and tired of him. But I was not in danger of overexposure to Henry. I only wanted more. Like clockwork, he responded – bringing his hands under the straps behind my back, and deftly untying the bow knot.

I pulled back with a shock. "Henry!"

He cackled. "I'm sorry. That look on your face is too good."

"Not funny." I smacked him playfully and went to work tying up my bikini again. "Do you have a kink for doing it in public? I'm assuming you do."

"I believe you started this," he countered, leaning over me, "just as you started it in the movie theatre."

"I did not!"

"God, that cute look again. I want it photographed, framed and signed. By you. It'll go for millions."

I threw my head back and laughed. It was the ugly, snorting kind of laugh, that only Henry could bring out of me. It made his smile grow wider. He leaned down and kissed me slowly, trapping my smile between his.

These little slices would end up becoming my most fondest memories. Solidifying in my mind as the time and place when I'd felt the most fulfilled. I threaded my fingers through his hair, resting my hand at the nape of his neck. Dreamily wondering when his hair had gotten this long. Or when he'd shaved his beard.

He pulled away and watched me adoringly, as he tended to do. From the outside looking in, we were a loved up couple who were obnoxiously cocooned in their bubble. Positively cringe-worthy. People walked by and were driven by curiosity to peer closer. Looking away once they were caught. We had abandoned our sandwiches and picnic things beside us. Nothing else could hold our interest except each other.

"I'm going to miss this," he murmured. His hand revisited the shape of my waist, the way it dipped and flared into my hips. "You make me feel ten years younger. Or like I never aged at all."

"Like you've started becoming again, rather than simply being?"

The crooked, melting smile he gave me was enough to crack me open. "Exactly right."

There was a swirl in the pattern of his scruff, just above his jawline. Dark with bits of burgundy. I traced it with my fingertip. "Does this mean we can't even talk?" I forced myself to ask. "At all?"

Henry sighed. He had made it clear multiple times now. Life had to go back to normal once we were in the classroom. Tomorrow marked the day that we would have to pretend that none of this had happened. It would be mutually beneficial for us this way. Nothing good was ever meant to last, as he liked to remind me.